


Sto dasos kapou

by MToddWebster (RembrandtsWife)



Series: Tales of the Forest God [7]
Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Andrew Hozier-Byrne (Musician), Forest God - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Forest God, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Drinking, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Consent, Flowers, Kemonomimi, Kissing, M/M, Mushrooms, Mythology - Freeform, Non-Human Genitalia, Pagan Gods, Wine, gods having sex, top!Dionysus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/MToddWebster
Summary: The young god of the vine and the old god of the forest meet in the woods, and shenanigans ensue.
Relationships: Dionysus/Forest God
Series: Tales of the Forest God [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1425484
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Sto dasos kapou

**Author's Note:**

> Another gift of porn to the gods *g* (actually, I'm not kidding) Thanks to roosebolton and Grey for encouragement and beta.

The god with grapes in his hair ran through the forest as lightly, as silently as any deer. He was alone at this time, unaccompanied by nymph or satyr, maenad or silenus. The sun stood nearly at the zenith, sending arrows of light between the trees that did not dispel, but rather intensified the shadows and the dim places. 

Thirsting, he sprinted toward the smell of water and stooped to drink from a spring that flowed from the tangled mossy rootgrowth between an oak tree and a pine. Satisfied, he sat back and noticed, without any forewarning, a pair of deep green eyes watching him from between the trees.

The green eyes came closer and Dionysus saw a human face, bearded but still youthful, crowned with a deer's antlers and a mane of brown curls. The god--for of course this was a god, albeit not one he had encountered before--spread out his hands, white and long-fingered, graceful as Apollon's on the lyre, and came closer, walking upon the hairy legs of a deer.

"Greetings," said the forest god.

"Greetings," Dionysus returned. "I am Dionysus, son of Zeus and Semele, a god who wanders abroad."

"I am the Forest God." All around them, the trees rustled in acknowledgment. "All these woods of the north are mine. I am the guardian of bird and beast, tree and stone, stream and fungus. They are mine and they are me."

"I am the god who comes." Dionysus rose to his feet. The Forest God still towered over him, taller than any Olympian, if not so great of size as the Titans. "I come from afar and bring joy and pleasure in the form of dancing and drinking wine, laughing and singing, running on the hills and in the woods, hunting on fleet feet and eating raw flesh, making love and then sleeping safe amongst one's companions. I liberate mortals from the bonds of civilization and return them to the city revivified."

The Forest God smiled, a tentative smile, but it took Dionysus' breath for a moment. It softened and brightened the god's long, angular, solemn face, transforming him from a curiosity into a being of great beauty. 

"Joy and pleasure I know, running and dancing, sleeping and resting, hunting and making love, but I do not know what a city is, nor what is wine."

Dionysus returned the smile, turning out his hands. "To show you a city, I would have to take you far away from your home, forest lord. But I can offer you wine."

He stooped beside the tall pine tree and laid his hand on the earth, on a spot safely away from the spring. Then he dug gently at the wet soil, and swiftly a grapevine sprouted up, growing to knee-height in a moment, and from its roots, a spring of rich red wine ran forth. 

"It is made from the juice of grapes, fermented." He ran his hand lightly over the grapevine, and a small cluster of grapes grew and ripened at his touch. He plucked one and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly as the forest god gazed wonderingly at him. "The ripe fruit also is good. Try one."

The forest god plucked himself a grape and sucked it into his mouth with a sensuousness of which he seemed unaware. Dionysus watched him chew and swallow it; his heavy eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened, as did his smile.

"Now try the wine."

The forest god scooped up a palmful from the glittering flow and sipped at it, lowering his head to drink much like a deer. Without being prompted, he held the first sip in his mouth, savoring, before he swallowed, drinking the rest of the wine in one long pull.

"That is... amazing."

"This will make it easier to enjoy." Dionysus cupped his hands together and created two kylikes of good red clay, smoothly shaped. He dipped one and then the other into the spring of wine to fill it and offered one to the god. 

"In my lands, mortals pour out a few drops of wine before they partake, to honor us gods. Here we are both gods, but I am your guest. Will you drink from my cup?"

Smiling, he offered the cup in his hand to the antlered god. The forest god bent his head, leaning closer to Dionysus, and allowed the cup to be placed at his lips, and drank.

His lips were full and pink and well-sculpted, soft against the rim of the kylix, and his eyelashes were impossibly thick, resting on his cheekbones. When Dionysus withdrew the cup, the forest god leaned after it, then licked his lips in a way that sealed Dionysus’ intent: He wanted very much to lay with his new friend.

“It is very strong, and it loosens the limbs, turns the mind. I doubt that you have ever been intoxicated before! So let us exercise some caution.” He placed the half-empty kylix beneath the spring of water, not quite filling it with the clear cold stream, and swirled the contents before offering it again to the forest god. He drank eagerly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Good, but I think I prefer it without water. But you have not yet drunk with me.”

This time his smile crinkled the corners of his deep eyes as he held out the kylix in his hand to Dionysus. Dionysus’ scalp prickled suddenly, and something else prickled, too. This god might not know what a city was, might never have tasted wine, but it was not because he was young; it was because he was old, very old, far older than Zeus, perhaps even older than Kronos. He had been in these woods since long before the mortals Dionysus knew had raised their first cities.

He took hold of the cup that was offered him, not to take it away, but only to guide it to his lips, and to let his hand, square and brown, lie over the long white hand of the forest god. He kept his eyes on the god’s face as he drank, looking into those well-deep, cavern-deep eyes, and drank the whole cup, and licked his lips.

The sun passed the zenith and went down, and the moon rose, a narrow crescent barely visible, while the vine god and the forest god drank wine and water together and told each other stories. Dionysus told of Zeus, and his mortal mother Semele, of her destruction, and how he had gone to the land of the dead and lain with the underworld Queen to win his mother’s release, that he might make her a goddess. The Forest God spoke of the Light from which everything came, of Wolf and Bear and Fox and Oak, of his dealings with mortals and how they first came to the north.

And they drank more wine, and less water, and Dionysus told of his wanderings among humans, and his mortal lovers, and the oath he made to Prosymnos and how he fulfilled it. At that story the Forest God’s eyes grew wide as any deer’s, and then he fell over onto his back, spilling the last of his wine on his chest as he laughed and laughed. 

Dionysus, laughing also, pointed to the god’s shoulder. “You have mushrooms!”

“What?” The Forest God tried and failed to stop laughing. Spilt wine trickled down to his belly.

“Mushrooms! Growing on you! They sprang out along your shoulders when you began to laugh.” Dionysus plucked one, carefully, from the tip of the god’s collarbone where it touched his shoulder. It was bright red speckled with white.

“Oh, oh…. I’ve never done that before.” The Forest God took the mushroom with delicate fingers and peered at it closely. “Perhaps I’ve never laughed so much. And these are new, not something I have made grow before.” Before Dionysus could say anything further, he popped the mushroom into his mouth and chewed. “Oh.” He swallowed, hard; Dionysus watched his throat ripple. “It tastes foul, but it will be powerful medicine for the human body, used in the right way.”

“And how does it affect you?” Dionysus leaned forward, his eyes roving the god’s supine body. The Forest God smiled.

“It makes me thirsty for more wine.”

He began to sit up, and Dionysus met him with a kiss, letting the deer god drink from his mouth. The god made a noise deep in his chest, and drew away, only to drink a mouthful of water and offer it back to Dionysus in a deeper kiss, the water impossibly sweet and cold. They traded kisses back and forth for long minutes, toying with each other’s hair, until Dionysus was breathless with desire.

“What shall we do?” The Forest God tilted his antler-crowned head, his smile now teasing. “Shall we re-enact your oath to Prosymnos? Shall I be the earth to your lightning and rain?”

“Have you no preference, beautiful one?”

The Forest God shrugged. “All the acts of the body are joy to me, and our mutual pleasure is my only goal.”

Dionysus stood, wavering only a little, and shed what was left of his clothing, showing himself smooth and sleek, his phallos rampant. “I desire to be desired, forest lord.”

“I do desire you, and will worship you.” And the antlered god knelt before Dionysus, clasped his hips gently, and placed his mouth on the god’s phallos.

Dionysus closed his eyes in pleasure. The old god’s mouth was as wise as his deep eyes, tenderly saluting the head of the young god’s phallos with his tongue so that it hardened further, and easing back the delicate skin of the prepuce with his equally delicate lips. Now he sucked on the unveiled crown, working his tongue against it. Then he bent his crowned head, taking in more of the length.

Dionysus felt for the god’s antlers and did not find them where he sought them. Opening his eyes, he saw that they had diminished to small prongs, allowing a closer approach to his body. Laughing, he twined his fingers into the thick brown curls in which the antlers were rooted and fixed his gaze on the god’s face, watching his bearded mouth enclose more and more engorged flesh, trembling at a heated gaze through lashes thicker than his own.

The forest god drew back, only to rub his cheek against Dionysus’ quivering phallos. “You taste like nothing I have ever known--like your wine, like strange flowers, like distant spices. I would drink of you fully.”

And saying that he plunged his mouth upon Dionysus again and drank with all his strength, working up and down the length of his arousal with increasing speed. Dionysus tried to restrain himself, to prolong the pleasure, but all too soon, he reached his climax with a cry that made the earth tremble and the trees ring.

The forest god swallowed his seed with the same zest that he had swallowed the pure spring water and the divinely given wine. His strong hands helped Dionysus drop to the earth, languid with satisfaction. Then he stretched out beside the younger god, his head propped on his hand, and smiled. “Look what you have made, friend,” he said, sweeping his free hand in a circle. All of the trees in the clearing were now clothed with grapevines up to their first branches, and the air was filled the scent of the ripe fruit.

Dionysus laughed aloud. “I think you must take some credit as my collaborator.” He caressed the god’s beard and drew him into a kiss.

“But what of you?” Dionysus asked, still caressing the forest god’s cheek. “You have not yet spent yourself.”

The god gazed down with heavy-lidded eyes. “With your consent, I should like to spend my seed on your body. And then, perhaps we shall rest or perhaps we shall continue.”

“I like the way you think, friend.” Dionysus gestured expansively over his naked body, sprawled upon a bed of flowers. “Do as you please.”

The forest god rose to his knees beside Dionysus, his hands combing through the thick fur at his crotch. His shape seemed to change slightly, to become more human and less animal, so that it was possible to see his phallus emerging from a furred sheath above heavy, hairy testicles. He stroked it with his hands around the sheath until it pressed forward and he could grasp it in the manner of a man. It seemed to Dionysus that it wavered between a human shape with a bulbous head and a longer, more slender cervine form, flushed violet-red.

The god’s head tipped back as he stroked more quickly, more firmly, his mouth agape, his chest leaping with his breaths. Dionysus lifted a hand to touch just where the human and deer bodies merged in a line of reddish fur, ran his fingers teasingly over the soft hairy spot below the forest god’s navel--

With a cry like a mating stag’s, he let go and rained his seed on the god, spattering him from chest to thigh with fragrant drops. Dionysus writhed in pleasure, feeling each drop separately tingling against his skin, and cried out himself in shock and delight as they turned to seedlings and flowers pressing their roots against him.

The antlered one, sprawled backward now, laughed softly. “Sorry about that. It often happens when I climax.”

“No need to apologize.” Sitting up, Dionysus brushed the growing things into his lap and began weaving them into a garland, blessing them not to fade for a while. 

The forest god went to the spring and washed his belly clean, then drank from cupped hands. “What is your pleasure now, friend?”

Dionysus tipped his head and gave the god a winning smile. “I should like to fuck you, I think. Would you be agreeable to that?” 

“I would be most agreeable,” said the forest god with a smile. “How shall I present myself?”

“Will you kneel for me like the doe, and let me be the stag?”

“Gladly,” said the god, licking his lips, and without hesitation, he turned away and sank to his hands and knees, lowering his pronged head and raising his hindquarters.

At this sight Dionysus was fully roused in a moment. He could almost think, for a moment, that his lover was indeed a stag; the heavy curves of his haunches were pelted white, a sharp contrast to the red-brown fur of the long legs, and a brush of tail lifted at the base of his spine, red on top and white underneath. Dionysus knelt between the delicate hooves planted in the earth and looked down the long white slope of the human back, the tumbling curls even longer and thicker than his own. With an impatient noise, the god flicked his tail.

Dionysus laughed aloud. “Be patient, beautiful one! I have a gift to make this joining easier.”

He placed one fingertip against the deep pink rose of the god’s anus and created warm drops of olive oil. With their aid, he easily penetrated with one finger, watching with both lust and amusement as the red and white tail flickered in response. 

“That feels good--what is it?”

“The oil of a savory fruit we grow in the south. It is pleasant to the skin and good for food as well. The invention of the goddess Athena.” He laughed briefly, remembering how Athena took no lovers yet had nevertheless blessed them.

“Thank her for me, then,” said the forest god, and groaned deep in his chest as Dionysus entered him with two fingers. “After you have fucked me properly.”

Dionysus took that to mean that his lover was ready to proceed. Smearing his phallos with the rest of the oil, he pressed forward and joined their bodies.

A deep shock ran through him, deeper than the sweet pleasure of tightness and heat, of a body welcoming his own. He had not felt this when the god took him in his mouth, this overwhelming sense that this was, indeed, no mere beast, no mortal, no satyr, even, but a god, fully divine, far older than himself. No god of his own people had ever allowed him to be the penetrator, and few of any other kindred, and yet this ancient one had no shame, no hesitation. He allowed Dionysus not merely to fuck him, but to touch his essence, to see and feel the divine flame that made him what he was, and Dionysus was humbled. Was this, then, how mortals felt when he lay with them?

Time passed, perhaps, as the two gods coupled in the woods, but they regarded it not, and it did not touch them. Their bodies moved together, pleasured and pleasuring, and around them the trees grew taller, the moss grew thicker, the creatures of the forest coupled and bore their young, and the grapevines spread and fruited, time and again. In the trees and the earth around them, flowers appeared and remained in bloom as the seasons passed in succession, and still Dionysus fucked his lover and gazed into his essence as a small child might gaze into the depths of the sea. He learned much then, and loved much, and was loved by the antlered god so much older than any of his kindred, and so gentle.

As he finally emptied his seed into the forest god’s body, the forest god spilled his own seed again. A crack of thunder joined their mutual outcry, and suddenly the clouds burst and rain poured down on them. 

They sprawled upon the earth, still joined, exhausted. The rain ceased before either of them could even draw away from the other.

Lying side by side, Dionysus took the Forest God’s hands and kissed them. The god in turn stroked his head and kissed his mouth. “I am glad to have met you, lord of the forest. You have given me a great blessing and taught me much.”

“I am glad we met also, god of the vine. Your grapes will grow well here, I think, so remember that you have given me a gift as well.”

Dionysus sat up and ran his hands through his damp hair. “I think a longer time has passed for mortal beings than we had intended. I feel an urge to return quickly to my own lands.”

The forest god got to his feet and offered his hands to Dionysus. “Then you should go. If I might claim one last kiss--”

Dionysus embraced the forest god and kissed him, as one kisses a dear lover whom one must leave. Then he picked up the garland he had made of the green things that grew on his body, sprung from the god’s seed, and placed it on his antlered head. “Forest lord, be well.”

“Go well, Dionysus.”

The forest god watched, smiling, in the fading light of late afternoon, as the god of the vine gathered about him his attributes--a woman’s dress, a man’s buskins, a thyrsus wound with ivy and topped with a pine cone in his hand, a garland of grapevine and flowers about his brow, and around his shoulders a fawn skin--and sped away between the trees, southward, toward the stories that would be told of him.

**Author's Note:**

> "Sto dasos kapou", pronounced roughly "stoh DAHsos KAHpoo", is modern Greek for "in the woods somewhere". Thanks, Google Translate. *g*


End file.
